


and through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets.

by starbucks22



Series: tonight i’m falling, won’t you catch me? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Regulus Black Feels, Regulus Black Lives, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbucks22/pseuds/starbucks22
Summary: So, in the end, he knows what needs to be done.After all, Regulus Black is not a monster, not really. And Regulus will be damned if he allows Harry Potter to be sent off to horrible people who will do nothing but rip the stars out of his eyes.“Yes,” Regulus begins slowly. His eyes flicker upwards to latch onto McGonagall’s. “I have some place to stay that’s safe for a child.”AKA: After a certain traumatic October 1981 event, Regulus Black is whisked away into a meeting of where to send the newly orphaned Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall raises hell, and nobody should ever let Albus Dumbledore make custody decisions.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Minerva McGonagall, Regulus Black & Remus Lupin, Regulus Black & Sirius Black
Series: tonight i’m falling, won’t you catch me? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031736
Comments: 26
Kudos: 243





	and through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BennieLee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BennieLee/gifts).



> Dumbledore isn’t quite on my hit list (PETER PETTIGREW YOU BETTER SQUARE UP WE CAN SWORD FIGHT AT A DENNY’S AT 8) but he’s definitely on my shit list. I know his reasoning, but really? Knowingly leaving a child in an abusive home? REALLY???
> 
> also hello this took me So Much time to write, please appreciate. 
> 
> ....and please I can’t be the only one who thinks Dumbledore shouldn’t be in charge of any custody decisions ever ever ever again

Regulus Black goes on his Horcrux hunt and barely makes it out alive. 

It was such a harrowing, near death experience, unlike anything he's ever had before- (the Inferi pressed closer and closer, haunted bodies and empty souls and cold, drowned body parts surrounded him-) - that he just didn't know what to do about it. 

He thinks about it all the time. Day in; day out. For the first few months afterwards, it's the only thing on his mind. Later on, he's able to get enough of a handle on his thoughts to remember things that aren't about the worst experience of his life. He's not above begging someone to give him some Sleeping Draught, but that kind of completely goes against the whole "lying low" thing he's attempting to do. It's not nearly as hard as it could be. He has Kreacher with him to talk to if he gets too lonely, he has potions and glamours if he needs to leave the cold abyss that is his family home, he has food, water, and shelter- so he deals.

Well. He deals the best that he can, anyway.

Days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months and, before he knows it, months turn to over a year. 

One late July afternoon, he sits down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in one hand and the latest copy of the Daily Prophet in his other. 

Kreacher comes by, sets something down, and scurries off again. Briefly, Regulus wonders just how the elf acquired the newspaper- neither of them own an owl. He almost asks, too- though he isn't sure if it's not just better to leave it alone- when a headline catches his eye and breaks his thought process away from Kreacher and illegal things (ha, doesn't that just describe everything nowadays?) and water so cold that it turns his lips blue.

**James and Lily Potter, aged 20, welcome their first child into the world! Flip to page 20 for more details.**

_Potter,_ his mind scoffs out, full of derision, believing the name to be one- if not the least- favorable one he knows. Also. Lily Potter? He saw her and her dumbass lover only two years ago, and she was most certainly still Evans, then. (And everything else was falling apart all around and the war was- still is- raging, and he was a Death Eater mere months away from defecting; from marching his way to almost certain death. He wasn't even eighteen yet. Sure, he joined in free will... but he didn't know what he was getting into. Nobody can kill that many innocents and walk away a man not unhinged. Nobody can kill any and walk away unchanged. Unmarked. If he had known any better... he would have chosen not to get his Mark. To sit around and mope and survive and finally, maybe, get the chance to just be his age.)

Potter got to, he thinks. Both of them. He **looks** down at the newspaper cover, looks down once again at their bright, smiling faces. They're both entirely unconcerned, even if just momentarily. The Potters gaze down at the little bundle Lily is carrying in her arms. Anyone who can so much as feel can take a look and see that they love him. They love their newborn baby boy so much. The newest little part of the Potter gaggle is fast asleep in his mother's arms, snoozing his life away as all new babies do. James Potter has his arms around his wife- really, when did that happen?- and Regulus knows that the baby will grow up happy, safe as he possibly can while being born in the midst of an ever changing war, and loved. No matter what, he knows, that baby will grow up loved.

He doesn't think he's ever been so jealous of such a small child before. It’s awfully unbecoming.

"Kreacher," Regulus calls out. A thought occurs to him. "How recent is this?" He flips to page 20 and taps on it. 

"Not sure," Kreacher replies, a bit uncertainly. He looks up from the organizing he’s busied himself with. “Fairly so. Just found it today."

"They've wedded young," Regulus comments absently. 

"There's more on that, too."

That doesn't surprise him; it  is  a newspaper after all. Even things that could just be considered measly gossip, like the aforementioned wedding between James Potter and Lily Evans, is drawn up to be something all-important and, if he knows either of them at all, horridly dramatic. 

He's quickly proven wrong.

"It was a small affair," Kreacher intones deeply, glancing down at a piece of paper in his hands. When Regulus glances over at him, he continues reading off of it. "Only the couple's closest friends and family, including notable members such as Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomphrey, and James Potter's best man- both in all other aspects of life as with this wedding- Sirius Black." 

Without needing to be asked, Kreacher passes the paper over to Regulus.

Sure enough, just as the paper said, Sirius is there in all his glory. He stands tall- well, as tall as he can, anyway- beside the brand new groom. He has one arm wrapped loosely over the taller man's shoulder. Somehow, Sirius' bright grin rivals the size of James'. On James' left is a bright eyed, fiery haired young adult. Her arm is wrapped around her fellow newlywed's waist. Her eyes are shining so brightly that they might just encompass the stars. A bit further back stands the rest of their merry gang of misfits- Peter, Remus, and a small gaggle of girls that must be connected to Lily in some way. He tears his gaze away from his brother and away from the couple, though he does entirely wish to. Just the sight of the two, and the look of familiarity that Sirius shares with them, coupled with Regulus' most traumatizing life experiences, is enough for him to just say 'fuck it all' and reach out.

Kreacher makes his way closer.

"I know that look," he says disdainfully. Regulus doesn't refute that, because its probably true. 

And, sure enough, "I need to get in touch with Sirius again. Before it's too late."

"Because of the Horcrux?" He asks. He's well aware that it has nothing to do with the Horcrux, but he, for once, doesn't make his feelings known. 

"No," Regulus denies, his face thoughtful. "But that sure doesn't hurt."

*

The letter Regulus ends up sending is as short as he can make it, which isn’t very much so, and it’s full of unsend things. It goes a little something like this:

**I want to preface this by saying that I know you’re not going to believe me. I’m not so sure I’d believe me, either. Two years ago, I went on a race to destroy the Horcrux. The locket. I’m not sure if you know about that or not, but either way, here goes...**

**I didn’t die. If you get this letter anytime soon, then you know that already, whether or not you believe me.**

**I was supposed to die, I think. I was meant to.**

**Can I tell you something? It was really, really close, Sirius. Down there, in the frozen lake, grabbed at by all of the Inferi, I truly didn’t think I was going to survive. I ordered Kreacher to take the locket and go. At first, I did think he would obey.**

**I blacked out, which I fully expected, but I woke up a few days later, bruised and scared and confused, but very much alive. I’m no longer with the Death Eaters, which I figure is kind of a given. Look into it, please, and you’ll know that I’m telling the truth.**

**I saw the news, by the way. With Potter and Evans’ wedding- or, Mr. and Mrs, Potter now, I guess. Tell them congratulations for me.**

**Look. I know that we’ve got a lot of shit to work through, and I know that you might not even read this. And I know that; even if you do, there’s no way that you’re just going to accept it- and me- with open arms, but I couldn’t just go in knowing that I didn’t even try to make up.**

**This letter is really embarrassing, and I’d like to pretend that I didn’t just bare my heart out to you as if we haven’t hated each other for years, but no matter what I’ve said, you’re still my brother.**

**Even if I’m no longer yours.**

*

The very last thing Regulus expects is a (mostly) civil reply, but, two weeks later, that’s precisely what he gets. 

Sirius’ letter is downright minuscule in comparison; if it can even be called that at all. A note would be a more apt description for it, but Regulus isn’t bored enough to ruminate over the technicalities of it. 

**Is there a way to even confirm that you are who you say you are? From what I know, you could just be sent from another Death Eater to get my location.**

Not the best start. Regulus holds his breath and continues reading.

**But. If you really are Reggie, and you have a way of proving your loyalties, or your story checks out when I go to check it...**

Admittedly, even that is more than Regulus expected. A lot more civil. Not like Sirius wants to kill him.

The note finishes off with: **...Besides, like you said, you’re still my brother. Reply to this if you want to; I’ll send a date for us to meet up.**

Kreacher, as if sensing that something actually went  right  for the first time since Regulus was fourteen, reappears from the kitchens with a loud _pop!_

“Who is that from?”

Regulus looks down. “Sirius sent it. I think he wants to meet up with me.”

Kreacher grunts his acknowledgment, albeit a bit disinterestedly. “When?"

"I don't know yet."

*

It doesn't take very long to find out. Later on, he gets a note that simply gives an address to meet at and a date: **October 31st. Halloween.**

*

On the morning of Halloween, Regulus is in high spirits, for what must be the first time in many years. He usually feels a lot older than he really is- but today, he feels more like a teenager than he has since, well. Since he even became a teenager in the first place. He's all dressed up and ready to go all bright and early. He's eager to get out of the house- things are finally looking up.

So, naturally, October 31st is the very day that the Wizarding World comes to a violent, screeching halt.

At first, Regulus just thinks that his older brother stood him up, or that he's just horrendously late as he always used to be...

That is, until he gets a frantic Floo call from Remus Lupin, of all people. This immediately makes Regulus suspicious- despite the fact that they're both getting close to the same person, (but in wildly different ways,) they don’t usually talk like this, which isn’t to say that they never talk- because they do. What with Regulus getting closer to Sirius lately, it’s kind of difficult to avoid the adult’s best friends, so he, along with Remus, Peter, and the occasional James-and-Lily hybrid, are kind of forced to get along now. Occasionally, at least. But even so, they all usually take  some  caution in communicating with one another, and it’s  always  more planned out and careful than this. So, when Remus takes a step back from the nearby fireplace, just far enough back that Regulus to see the background, alarm bells immediately go off in his head. Why would Remus call him, out of nowhere, with no modicum of warning, surrounded by dirt, debris, and a black sky, unless something Big and Important was going on? The older man, face lined by scars and sorrow, looking sadder than Regulus has ever seen him, opens his mouth to speak.

He opens it, then closes it, then repeats the motion twice more. He seems to be in quite the state of shock.

(The alarm bells in Regulus’ head go from a dull warning to a high, screeching noise of terror.)

"Sirius-" Remus manages to choke the name out, but just barely. He quickly goes silent once more.

Regulus does some quick thinking, connects some dots, panics internally. Even as his stomach drops, he asks slowly, cautiously, “...Is he dead?" 

Remus blinks. Then, slowly, he shakes his head. Even so, he still looks disconcertingly thunderstruck. 

Regulus doesn't care. Right now, he’s sure he's ever seen anything better in his entire life. The dread that’s been pooling in his stomach finally starts to dissipate, but the last bits of anxiety aren’t so quick to go away. He knows that his either isn’t dead. He knows that whatever’s going on implicates him and, possibly Regulus himself. And lastly, he knows that something has gone outrageously, horribly wrong, to make Remus look so heartbroken. 

"So... he's alive? Is he hurt? Where is he? Is he okay? What’s going on?” The questions come out of his mouth almost quicker than he can even think of them, but Remus doesn't seem to care. All he does is blink some more. Honestly, the prolonged silence is starting to get concerning.

"He's alive," is the only response. "But-"

But?  That can’t possibly be a good thing, Regulus thinks. 

"But he-" 

Remus’ words- or the lack thereof- stutter off. His face closes up. 

The dread come back again. 

"I won’t allow you to carry on like this,” a soft sounding voice interrupts. "I don't think you have it in you to explain right now." 

“Somebody has to tell him,” Remus replies, shakily. “I already called. I started this.”

“Who’s on the other end?”

It takes a second to recognize the voice as Professor McGonnagall's, which, naturally, leads to only more confusion. When she receives nothing more than a head shake, the woman gently nudges Remus out of view. 

She turns to face Regulus, and for a second or two, all she does is blink. She takes him all in- hair, nose, eyes- she seems to frown even harder when she looks him straight on, actually. Seeing as she’s the second person to do this in the last ten minutes, it’s a bit concerning. “...I think we should explain to you in person."

"You could just tell me now. In fact, I'd rather you do so. No traveling is necessary. What's going on? What could have possibly shaken him up so badly?"

Out of Sirius, Remus, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, and his wife Lily Potter, it's well known that Remus is the most calm, level headed out of their friend group. It must something monumental to shatter him so badly. 

It must be something even  worse  if he’s willing to let Regulus see. 

"Are you sitting down?" McGonnagall asks, which is a stupid question, really. He's borrowing someone's Floo. He's sticking his head into some random fireplace while he’s standing around, waiting for his no-show brother. So no, he's not sitting down, thanks for asking. He's sure the look on his face makes shows that clearly enough, anyway. Especially because all the woman says after that is a sighed, "Fine."

The professor takes a deep breath. She's visibly psyching herself up for something.

"Sirius betrayed Lily and James Potter."

*

For a few seconds, the news just doesn't register. It's like it went in one ear and out the other.

He tries to be calm and stoic, but that’s just not possible at the moment. However, he isn’t acting nearly as frantic as he feels, so he figures that counts for something, no matter how small of a victory it is. 

He really needs a drink. It’s very convenient that he’s in town, then. 

In lieu of a better reaction, he laughs. 

He  laughs,  long and hard and halfway hysterical. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

Remus seems to choke for a second. Regulus isn’t sure when he pushed his way back into the fireplace, but he’s speaking now. “N- no! Professor McGonagall would never  when it comes to something as... important as this.”

_He was about to say ‘serious’ wasn’t he?_ He probably has a point, but Regulus just isn’t stable enough to care. It’s a wonder Remus can even bother to talk to him, really. Especially if the news is actually true... but here’s the thing. “You mean to tell me, Sirius Black, my brother, betrayed the two most important people in his life? The people he would die for? Kill for?  Really.  For what, exactly? What’s the supposed motive? Some glory? Money? Please! He already has all of that in spades!”

“Well, I know  that,”  Remus snaps back. Then, frowning, he bites: “Most certainly better than  you  do.”

Regulus bristles, though he tries not to show it. He doesn’t succeed. “What is that supposed to mean?” he snaps.

“How often have you been around in the past few years, really? Other than the few notes exchanged every few weeks or so?  I  know more about Sirius than you ever did-“ for some bizarre reason, he seems to deflate. Mumbling, he finishes his sentence. “-Or, at least, I thought I did.”

Any semblance of haughty gazes and perfectly controlled words are gone in an instant. “Wait... you can’t actually think Sirius turned against the Potters, can you?”

He doesn’t get a response.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

The curse garners a response, but only just. “I-“

Regulus, not thinking straight, continues on. “Are you fucking serious? You have  got  to be _kidding_ me! Right?”

This time, no response is given. Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, (the latter of which has only been near Remus’ fireplace long enough to hear the last bit,) seem to hesitate. They glance over at Remus, who’s gone silently, deadly still.

Regulus isn’t quite seeing what all the fuss is about. He asked a simple question- incredulously, perhaps, but that’s besides the point- he wants to make sure nobody’s messing with him right now. That, and he just needs more details overall. The words ‘Sirius betrayed Lily and James Potter,’ explain absolutely nothing at all. It all feels like a bad prank. The prolonged silence isn’t helping matters any; it’s just confusing him more. “What?”

The professors shoot one another and Remus another sideways glance. They appear genuinely unsure, but as to why, he has no idea. _What’s so puzzling?_

Remus, oddly enough, seems to get impossibly paler. 

“I... no, we are not kidding you,” McGonagall says. She looks as if she’d rather be anywhere else in the world, instead of awkwardly speaking to one of her ex-students via Floo call. 

Remus frowns harder, looking sadder than ever before. Regulus is beginning to think that he’s missing something. 

When the others fidget some more, shooting one another _what-the-heck-do-I-say-next_ glances, and Remus stares down at his shoes, it clicks.

Regulus realizes, then, that the way he very bluntly called, ‘Are you fucking serious?’  could, in the context of the trio’s mess of a conversation, come across very, very badly. 

“Ohhhhh,” he says. The word comes out unnecessarily drawn out, but nobody seems to care much. “That’s not what I- well, not really- I mean, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were true-“

Someone makes a choking noise, but he doesn’t care enough to stop and decipher which one of them it was. 

“-But that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to send any of you into... well. A frenzy.”

Even if he hadn’t said anything at all, it still wouldn’t have changed things. The whole day has been absolutely insane- everyone would have gone into a frenzy, however quiet it was, anyway.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes are as intelligent and sharp as ever, he notes, and just as intimidating as they always were during the rare times when her focused gaze was pinned on him. She holds the staring eye contest for a few seconds before breaking it, frowning. 

Not for the first time today, he gets the feeling that he knows a lot less than he thinks he does. 

_That says something,_ he muses, _Because I’m way out of my depth here._

“What do you think you get?”

Well isn’t that just a nice, cryptic little question? “About... what?”

“Do you understand what we’ve been telling you?”

_Yeah, and it’s all bullshit._ He very narrowly avoids saying that out loud, which is a good thing. Aggravating Professor Dumbledore, who’s as famous as he is for a reason, Professor McGonagall, who can and will fuck you up, or the one emotional, grieving, _literal werewolf,_ is... not in his best interest.

Just like many other things, he doesn’t say that last bit, either. Especially because... he’s not even supposed to know about the whole “werewolf” thing.

But, come on. In retrospect, it was so  obvious...  if you had enough of a brain and enough curiosity to put two and two together, which apparently, many Hogwarts students had not. 

“I... understand what you’ve been saying,” he says slowly. “But I still just don’t believe it.”

There. That’s not too incriminating. 

Then, Remus  really  throws him for a whirlwind. 

“He did it, Regulus,” he says, his eyes hard and cold with conviction. “And he killed Peter, along with thirteen Muggles. Collateral damage, I guess.” 

Regulus blinks. _What?_ “Okay, at first I just thought you were going into shock, but you actually mean it. Wow. Okay.” He doesn’t know what to say. Out of all the people... Remus is just going to believe that his best friend, of all the people, killed his chosen brother and his chosen brother’s wife? Yeah, right. 

“There is  nothing  more in the world that Sirius loves more than James Potter,” he says. His words may come across as too soft, as something little above a whisper, or even something akin to reverence, but he just doesn’t care. He needs to get this point across. “ Nothing.  Not a thing, not a person, not some... abject achievement like glory or power. He didn’t kill him, and he didn’t kill them, because he couldn’t. He would have died instead. And if I know my brother, even the slightest bit-“ which may be all he knows now, even with the recent flow of back-and-forth letters- “Then I know that much.”

For a moment or two, there was more silence.

Then, for the first time, Dumbledore spoke. 

“I will send you an address to meet us at. We have many things to discuss.”

*

“Many things to discuss,” it turns out, is not just some minor exaggeration. 

Regulus, along with a bunch of other people that he’s only heard of, have been sitting around, listening to Dumbledore and McGonagall ramble and bicker on, for  hours.

Tons upon tons of topics are fired out of mouths at rapid speeds; opinions are shot down like they aren’t even a valid thought to begin with, people are quietly arguing left and right, the air is thick with grief and sadness and overall tension- but Regulus just sits there and minds his own business. To the other’s credit, they bestow the same curtesy on to him. He figures that Dumbledore must have briefed them on all on the ‘Death Eater for all of maybe two years before backing the fuck out and trying to kill the man he used to try so hard to serve’ kind of thing. So, he’s content enough to just sit down and shut up and wait for it all to be over so he can just go home to Kreacher, yelling and shouting about the injustice of it all, but he hears something that breaks his silent pact much more quickly than he would like. 

“-The Dursley’s,” Dumbledore is saying, voice as stiff as his posture is. It’s almost as if he’s bracing for a blow. Nobody really knows why, until-

McGongall positively  explodes.

Maybe it’s due to the grief of losing four of her loved ex-students in one day, or maybe it’s due to whatever grudge she holds for whoever the Dursley’s are, but she lets loose.

“Are you out of your MIND, ALBUS?”

Albus- well, Dumbledore- does not look surprised by this in the slightest. All he does is sigh. “Minerva-“

He doesn’t get to finish. “Don’t  ‘Minerva’  me, Albus! I’ve studied them, I’ve watched them. They’re the worst kind of Muggles. I can’t, in good conscience, just passively sit by and watch you purposely subject that poor child to... well. To them!”

Dumbledore has apparently not learned his lesson yet, because he decides that the best course of action is to straighten up taller, look the short woman in the eye, and proclaim-

“I understand your frustration, Minerva, but it is simply not up to you, and we do not have the time to discuss this. He needs to be with his family, and the Dursleys are all he’s got left.”

“I cannot in good conscience just-“

“Actually,” a low voice begins, and Remus is interrupting. For a second, Regulus, along with a few others, are convinced that the generally mild mannered man is going to break up the argument before it can  really  take hold. But, no. Normality is not on the agenda today. Remus stands up, shakes his (more than likely) asleep limbs out, and makes his way over to the younger professor. “She’s right. And I’ve met the Dursleys- all of us have.”

“No,” a confused voice from the back of the quiet room calls out. “No, we didn’t?”

“Not you. I mean, my... friends and I have. There was a really disastrous set of dinners a while back, just before Petunia married her now husband, Vernon.”

“Okay...” the same puzzled voice replies. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“They’re truly despicable people,” Remus says mildly. Regulus isn’t surprised to see all eyes lock onto Remus, all staring incredulously. They’re all thinking the same thing, he knows- well. He still doesn’t believe it, but...

“Are you telling me,” someone new calls out. She’s a woman, but that’s all that Regulus knows about her. “You’re calling these unknown Muggles are ‘truly despicable people,’ when  clearly  we know of worse? I mean, come on! What are we skirting around this for? We’re sitting around debating where we should send the youngest Potter, all while we’re all ignoring the fact that the poor thing’s parents are dead-“ 

She pauses to take a breath, and the occupants of the room tense all at once. 

She’s still glaring. She’s pointing at Remus.“And it’s your  best friend  that did it.” 

Remus’ calm, cool, and collected mask completely falls away. Just for seconds, he’s unable to hide how absolutely devastated he is. 

The room doesn’t immediately relax, even when it becomes clear that he has nothing to say to refute this. Whispers continue to break out across the room, this time even louder than before, and they don’t cease until the Hogwarts Headmaster demands the room’s attention again. 

“The Dursley’s will be a fine place for the boy,” Dumbledore says, sure and strong. “I know that she may not be too fond of magic, but Petunia will take Harry in.”

“It’s not a matter on if she will or not,” McGonagall pipes up again. She’s scowling. “I don’t trust those people, Albus. They’re the worst kind of Muggles.”

“He’ll be fine-“

“They’re going to ruin-“

“He will be perfectly safe with them, Minerva-“

“No, you know that there’s a very high chance he  won’t  be.”

At McGonagall’s loud declaration, the room finally seems to still.

Regulus surprises himself and everyone else by being the first to speak. 

“If someone is arguing because of their concerns over a child’s safety,” he begins, pointedly, “Anyone with half of a brain ought to listen to them.”

Remus nods his head. Turns out that, after everything, they’re on the same side now. 

Would you look at that.

“Harry will be  fine,”  Dumbledore persists determinedly. 

McGonagall scowls. She opens her mouth, likely to argue some more, but the elder of the two continues on.

“I understand your concerns, Minerva. Believe me, I do, but they are just simply unfounded. The boy will be safe. Now, if we’re quite through discussing this, may we move forward to our next order of business?”

A thought occurs to Regulus, then, as the old man tries to hurry the impromptu meeting along. Dumbledore didn’t even stop to question just why McGonagall would be so certain that an innocent little boy might be in danger, especially from his own relatives. In what way was she implying, though? Was she referring to outside forces, and then being unable to protect Harry? But aren’t there specific wards for that? Wasn’t that sort of the entire point of this meeting, since Dumbledore clearly has his own plans in motion already? Or...

“Professor,” Regulus begins again. The two professors pause to look up at him. “McGonagall,” he clarifies. The woman nods. “Why do you think he won’t be safe? In what way are you implying?”

McGongall sighs, looking bone weary and tired. “I can’t tell what the extent would be ,  but...”  Would be,  she says. Clearly, she’s not relenting yet. 

“...Do you think they’re going to do something to him?”

Once again, the room stills.

Regulus is getting really tired of this. Of this whole entire  day,  thanks.

And now, on top of everything else, on top of everyone believing his brother- who was attached to James Potter’s hip as much as humanly possible- betrayed the man he held so dear- on top of Dumbledore not even bothering to try and help Sirius get a trial for something  he didn’t even do in the first place-  this. This takes the icing on the cake. 

It’s as if, until only just now, it hadn’t really hit him just how fucked up it all is. 

“There has to be someone else that can take him, then. Professor McGonagall, can’t you do so?” He addresses her formally, even though she hasn’t actually been his professor in years, not since a few years back when she tried her hardest to reach out to her student, to make him receive help, but he was too far gone and already Marked back then for it to really make a difference. 

That was then, though, and this is now. And he remembers. Right now, in the midst of the chaos, some simple kindness from years ago probably shouldn’t strike Regulus as much as it does, but, hey. The heart feels what it feels, the heart wants what it wants.

“I cannot,” McGonagall replies. She looks genuinely disappointed. 

“What? Why can’t-“

Remus cuts in again before Regulus can finish speaking. “Then can’t I-“

The eldest of the trio shoots him a look. A  _you-know-why_ sort of look. He slumps back down into his seat, silently conceding the point. 

Regulus surveys the room one more time. He wants to ask if Dumbledore can do it, or maybe Molly Weasley, who seems to be absent from the little meeting Dumbledore has put together. 

Before he can question her whereabouts, McGonagall does it for him. 

Once again, he’s reminded of reasons to respect her.

“What about Molly Weasley? She has experience with children. She can keep him safe and loved, can she not?”

“She does have experience, yes... but she also has a two-month-old, a one-and-a-half-year old, and two three-year-olds running all amuck at the Burrow. I dare say she has her hands full for quite a while.”

“What about...” He trails off, considering the lack of options. Mrs. Weasley can’t do it, Remus apparently can’t do it, McGongall can’t, Dumbledore can’t do it, and there’s no way in hell that Regulus of all people is going to sit back and do nothing as a child is about to be sent to a (presumably) abusive home. Fact of the matter is, he has no idea what to do. He knows that there’s bound to be some form of protection for the kid, but does he need more? Does he need to be sent off to wherever he’s going with a large batch of baby supplies? He’s over a year old, so he can’t need that much, surely? 

He catches himself as he starts chipping away at some mental list filled of nothing but baby supplies. This isn’t his kid, and he absolutely no connection whatever to the small Potter. 

(Sure. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.)

“Mr. Black,” McGonagall suddenly begins, voice pained and incredibly sad. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the way almost every single person in the room masks a grimace at the proper address. He doesn’t need to guess why, either. “You have a home, do you not?”

“I have a house, yes.” And a Kreacher, but that goes unsaid. He has a feeling that Kreacher’s existence is not involved in what McGonagall’s getting at.

“Would you say it’s well stocked?”

“With what? Food? Water?”

“Yes,” she nods. “Both of those. Now, then, is it safe?” Her voice has an odd tinge, concerned yet calmer now than ever before as she seems to be puzzling out some sort of game plan. 

_Good,_ Regulus thinks. _It’s sorely needed._

_...Wait a minute._

“You can just cut straight to the chase, you know.”

She repeats, “Is it safe? For a child?”

His mild suspicion over whatever the professor is planning goes from zero to ten in about three seconds flat. 

“...Professor,” he manages to wearily choke out.

She is having none of it.

“You’re not answering my question,” she’s quick to point out.

Regulus, though reluctant, forces himself to actually consider the question instead of just snapping out  buzz off,  like he wants to do. Grimmauld Place, in its current state, is barely ready for  adult-who-knows-what’s-dangerous-and-how-not-to-die  condition, let alone fit for a toddler to live in. But, he  is  a Black, and his family is not exactly known for a lack of money, so... Grimmauld Place might not be the best fit, but that doesn’t mean he can’t find somewhere that is.

However, that also doesn’t mean that he wants to, essentially, raise a child up from scratch. Regulus himself is only nineteen-years-old, still reeling from almost dying while defying the Dark Lord, coupled with all of his childhood trauma, the fact that, right as he started patching things up with Sirius, the man got locked up in fucking  Azkaban. 

So, yeah.  He doesn’t want to suddenly become some sort of makeshift father when he doesn’t even have his own life together yet, let alone anyone else’s! 

The thing is... Harry Potter is just a  baby.  Not even two-years-old yet. Probably has absolutely no idea why his parents haven’t come back for him, or why his parent’s best friends are also nowhere to be found. The kid is on the verge of being sent to what may or may not be an abusive home, (that point was heavily implied but never actually confirmed or not, at least not yet,) but is  definitely  full of people who aren’t going to treat him as family and are never going to love him like his parents did. McGongall and Regulus have gone through every safe option that they could think of, and nothing else is coming to mind. 

She must be absolutely  desperate  if he’s even being considered as an option. 

McGongall is still staring at him shamelessly, pointedly, and awaiting a proper response. 

He knows that, if he responds with the truth, that Grimmauld Place isn’t the safest for little boys but that there are plenty of places that are and that he’s the only one who knows the address- he knows that the hypothetical  will you take custody of this child you have never met even once in your whole entire life-  will become a reality. 

Regulus hesitates. He almost replies with something along the lines of, ‘I cannot be trusted. He will not be safe with me,’ even if it’s a lie, but. 

But. 

He thinks back to the magazine article detailing a brief but meaningful wedding between James and Lily Potter. He remembers staring down at the newlyweds on the page, and he remembers the rare photos of them with their only son. He remembers the love and devotion that shown in their faces brighter than the sun. He remembers how jealous he was for just a few seconds, of a newborn baby. 

So, in the end, he knows what needs to be done.

After all, Regulus Black is not a monster, not really. And Regulus will be damned if he allows Harry Potter to be sent off to horrible people who will do nothing but rip the stars out of his eyes. 

_It’s all so unfair._

“Yes,” Regulus begins slowly. His eyes flicker upwards to latch onto McGonagall’s. “I have some place to stay that’s safe for a child.”

Her eyes widen imperceptibly. “You have everything needed, then. You could take him in.”

“You’re forgetting that I have no experience in children. You’re forgetting that I’ve only been an adult myself for two years now, yes?” 

He doesn’t expect her gaze to soften, but that’s exactly what it does. She leans forward to place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not asking you to go it alone. There are people that will help you.”

“Like who? Molly Weasley? I thought she had her own children to deal with.”

“Oh, she does. But that doesn’t mean she can’t give you some pointers, does it?”

“I used to be a Death Eater,” he points out, as if she and the whole rest of the room don’t already know this, as if saying this will change anything at all.

“You made one of the biggest gains in progress that anyone has made in years. You’ve lived to tell the tale,” she counters. There’s some tittering around the room, along with some louder protests, but no wands are being raised, and for some bizarre reason, nobody seems to question this logic. 

“...I never told you about that.”

“I have my own sources of information.”

“You’ve had your so called ‘sources’ watching me for years. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

McGonagall doesn’t even deny it. “Did you really think you would be here if I hadn’t?”

_Nope._ He nods. “Point.”

“So!” She claps her hands together. “Is this-“

“No.” 

Dumbledore, for what must be the hundredth time today, shakes his head. “Harry is going to his relatives,” the man says, like a beat up, broken down record. “Even if you do send him with you, he won’t be allowed to stay. You aren’t even his guardian.”

Regulus scowls. He’s  really  not in the mood for this. “Neither are you.” 

“I am the magical-“

Yet another voice breaks in. “The will,” Remus quietly says. “James and Lily,” he manages to clarify. “It says that, under no circumstances, will they allow Harry to be placed with the Dursley’s.”

The other three pause.

“We have been... arguing over this... for hours,” Regulus begins slowly, but deliberately. 

McGonagall chimes in. “I can’t believe-“

“YOU DIDN’T THINK TO MENTION THAT THEY SPECIFIED WHERE HARRY OUGHT  NOT TO GO?  HOURS, REMUS! WE’VE BEEN AT THIS FOR _HOURS.”_

Remus frowns. “I’ve only just remembered. If I had thought of it earlier, I would have mentioned it.”

The others calm down again. Regulus continues talking. “And I bet that nowhere in that will specified that Dumbledore is left in charge of the boy, did it now?”

“Hey,” Dumbledore tries to cut in, but the other two are too busy yelling to notice. He shoots a look at Remus-  help me out here, my boy-  but Remus does no such thing. He somehow manages to look less impressed than ever before. He’s said his piece. He’d rather just let the others battle it out.

Dearly missing his bed, he lets out a sigh and leans down to rest his head and his eyes on the cold, smooth table beneath him. 

“Remus,” a voice calls out not ten minutes later. 

“What.”

“Whose side are you on here?” 

When he pries his eyes open once again, Regulus is scribbling something down and staring up at him, with one leg kicked onto theempty chair beside him, hands moving at the speed of light, long hair a mess, (hey, it’s not like Grimmauld Place has its own hairdresser,) and one eyebrow raised in question. 

Remus’ heart  aches. 

“What,” he repeats, not as toneless as before. Choked is more like it. “Do you want.”

The eyebrow raises farther up. Remus scowls harder. 

“The will you mentioned. Is there anything specifically against me in there?”

There was going to be at one point, after you managed to indirectly piss James’ whole family off in epic proportions, but once James calmed down, he decided that he didn’t have that big a grudge that he wanted to immortalize it in something as important as a will,  he thinks but doesn’t say. “Nope. I’d imagine it might be hard to get custody right now, though. Everything is... unstable.”

Talk about the understatement of the year. 

“Wait.  Somebody  must have custody right now. Right?”

“No...”

“Someone was just going to-“

“In case you haven’t noticed, this is a  war.  I think, until just now, people have been a bit too busy to assign Harry a brand new guardian just mere  hours  after his parents-“ he cuts himself off, then, shakes his head. “The second you try to get custody, somebody is going to get in your way.”

“Because of...” Regulus trails off. He isn’t even sure what he meant to say.  Because of how distrustful everybody is right now? Because of my last name? Because I used to be a Death Eater? Or because of something else entirely?  “I understand that. I do.”

“This isn’t going to be something that’s all quick and done in two seconds. You’re looking at a long fight here.”

“A long fight to  get  custody, or a long fight  once  that’s done?”

“I don’t think you’ve been on the grid long enough to have any idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Excuse you? What is that-“

“I think he is at least somewhat aware of the responsibility that is raising a child, Mr. Lupin,” McGonagall says, not unkindly. She might be the only person in the room that’s not huddled up in a corner, whisper-arguing with someone else. Even Dumbledore is getting into it. “And it’s not like you won’t be around.” She pauses. “Right?”

Remus shrugs. Then, as if this isn’t heartbreaking the most heartbreaking thing ever, he simply agrees with a quick, “Who else do I have to go to anymore?”

Regulus thinks fast. “McGonagall is right. You’ll have me, and you’ll have Harry, and you’ll have the Weasley clan, probably, and you’ll have McGonagall, and-“

“That’s very nice of you, but you simply have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. You shouldn’t have to be stuck with me just because you feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t!”

Remus raises his eyebrow, silently.

“Well, yeah,” he amends, “I do a little, but that’s not what my point is.”

“Then what is it?”

“Everyone needs someone. I have someone.”  It would have been Sirius. As a matter of fact, it was, but the idiot had to go fuck off and get himself arrested. I still have Kreacher, though. I lost one person, but he lost four.  “And you don’t.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in.”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me? I don’t care that you close yourself off and that you disappear for days every month or that you’re going to be, well.” He motions up and down. “Snappy. You still need company. Now, if you’re done being stubborn for a moment, I need to go retrieve Harry. I bet the kid would like to meet me before I whisk him away.” Regulus gets up, then, and heads for the door. 

When Remus does nothing but watch him go, totally shocked, Regulus whips around to face him and screeches to a halt.

“Well?” the younger of the two asks, nodding his head toward the door. “Are you coming or not?”

Remus sighs, but moves to stand.

“Yeah. I’m coming with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by the fanfiction He Comes Out Of The Black Lake Quite Mad. It has absolutely not much to do with this, but it was just so good that it gave me the inspiration to write this.


End file.
